


sugar & spice 2: electric boogaloo

by Anonymous



Series: bend & break; give & take [8]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Chose not to use archive warnings, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Don't Like Don't Read, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, author can't promise more chapters, author has left the fandom, continuation of sugar & spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 02:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: set a year after the events ofchapter 17of sugar & spice in thebend & break; give & takeseries ON PERMANENT HIATUS
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: bend & break; give & take [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/854040
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69
Collections: Anonymous





	1. omorashi

**Author's Note:**

> tags:  
omorashi/water sports  
infantilism  
depression  
lil bitty hint of praise kink  
feeding

Andrew shows up at Neil's apartment at ten in the morning on a Saturday. He'd sent Neil a message and told him to get ready, but he hadn't gotten a response. He'd tried calling Neil when he left his house, but Neil hadn't answered. He has been oddly distant over the last week, but Andrew hasn't had the time to do much about it. He's been swamped with work - not his regular job, work for Ichirou. Andrew is concerned by Neil's lack of responses as he scrolls up through their text chain. He's used to emoji-laced messages and near-constant pestering. There's been barely a word from Neil, though. 

Andrew reaches Neil's door and knocks loudly. He tries to listen for some sign of movement from within the apartment, but he can't hear anything. He knocks again and waits. It seems to take forever before the lock clicks from the other side of the door. The knob twists and Neil pulls in the door slowly. He blinks up at Andrew with big, hollow-looking eyes. 

“Neil,” Andrew says quietly. Neil sighs softly and turns from the door, leaving it cracked for Andrew. Andrew pushes it open as Neil wanders back to his nest of blankets and stuffed animals on the couch. He's in a large, light blue sweater and nothing else, but it looks wrinkled and a little dirty, like he's been wearing it for days. Neil's hair is unwashed and greasy. There is food and empty wrappers piled on the small table beside the couch. 

“What is the problem?” Andrew asks, trying not to sound harsh or critical. He walks through Neil's messy apartment and stops at the end of the couch. Neil doesn't look at him. “Neil.”

Neil shrugs limply at Andrew, like even that action is too much for him. Andrew turns away from him and goes to the kitchen. There's a mess here, too. Andrew notices the distinct lack of knives anywhere to be seen. He goes to the cabinet where Neil's cups are and finds only a few left. One is a bright pink sippy cup with _ princess _ written in little rhinestones. Andrew grabs that and fills it full of water. He screws on the lid as he heads back to the living room. 

Neil peers up at Andrew and takes the offered sippy cup. Andrew has to take the pacifier out of Neil's mouth before he moves to drink any of it. “Drink all of that,” Andrew says. As Neil begins to suck at the plastic tip, Andrew sheds his leather jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. He starts to clean up some of the mess around Neil, tossing the trash and putting the food where it belongs. Neil watches _ Planet Earth _ at a low, near-mute volume. 

Andrew picks up the living room and the kitchen, loads Neil's dishwasher and turns it on, then he ventures to Neil's bedroom and begins to do the same. Most of the mess in there is dirty laundry, so he crams it into Neil's laundry basket with the sheets and blankets from the bed. He finds clean sheets in the linen closet out in the hall, makes Neil's bed for him, then progresses to the bathroom. The bathroom isn't terrible, but Andrew gathers up the old towels and replaces them with clean ones and straightens the mess on the counter by the sink. 

When he finishes with all that, he goes back to check on Neil. Neil's cup is on the end table. Andrew grabs it and finds it empty. He refills it and takes it back to Neil, pressing the tip to Neil's lips to encourage him to drink more. He begins to take the blankets Neil has wrapped himself in, shaking out the crumbs and leaving them in a pile on the floor to go with the rest of the laundry. Neil gives Andrew a pitiful look, but Andrew mostly ignores that. He takes Neil's cup once it's empty and finds some juice in Neil's fridge this time. 

“Neil, you need to shower now,” Andrew says as he gives Neil the cup. Neil whines softly, but Andrew pays it no mind. He takes the last blanket and shakes it out as well. “Come on.” He pries Neil's phone from his hand and leaves it on the end table, then tugs Neil to his feet. Neil’s been playing some sort of mindless pastel game with a lot of round shapes, one which Andrew strongly suspects might be aimed at toddlers. He’s got a very high score. 

Neil resists going with Andrew, but Andrew is stronger and not the one currently in an extremely low swing on a cycle of depression. 

Andrew takes Neil to the bathroom and turns on the shower. He peels Neil's sweater off him, then he sheds his own clothes quickly and methodically as Neil leans against the wall and drinks his juice. Andrew hopes the sugar will help a little, though he won't let Neil have more than one cup of juice. Once Andrew is naked as well, he pushes Neil into the shower cabin and climbs in after him. He makes Neil stand under the spray for a while at first.

“Can you tell me why?” Andrew asks. Neil shakes his head. Andrew accepts that and runs his fingers through Neil's hair to ensure it's wet. He grabs one of the bottles of sweet-smelling shampoo and squeezes some in his palm before scrubbing it into Neil's hair. Andrew has to wash Neil's hair twice before it's clean. He uses some of the conditioner next, but leaves that to sit for a moment while he grabs Neil's soap and sponge and thoroughly bathes Neil twice as well. Neil lets him do it all without a word and only moves as Andrew instructs. Andrew rinses Neil's hair a final time, then switches places with him to wash away the soap that's collected on him. 

He helps Neil out of the shower and dries him off gently. He wraps a towel around his hips and leads Neil to his bedroom and has him sit on the bed. Andrew plunders through Neil's dresser until he finds a pair of white cotton panties. He puts those on top of the dresser, then goes to Neil's closet. He can't find a white shirt, but he finds a white skirt. He tosses a soft, pastel pink sweater in the mix and carries everything to Neil. He dresses Neil himself, since it seems Neil doesn't even want to do that, his limbs loose and his body lax. 

Once Neil is dressed, Andrew fills Neil's sippy cup with more water and makes him drink it. Andrew pulls on his own clothes and makes Neil come with him to the kitchen to sit. Andrew vacuums Neil's apartment quickly, even getting the crumbs off the couch. By the time he's finished with that and put the vacuum away, Neil has emptied his cup yet again. Andrew fills it for him, then he finds several bottles of water and tosses them in a grocery bag to carry with him. He puts a pair of black flats on Neil's feet, shrugs into his jacket, then lets Neil have his phone again as they leave Neil's apartment. 

Neil stands in the doorway and makes a soft little noise to get Andrew’s attention. Andrew turns to look at him. “What is it?” 

“Bunny,” Neil mumbles, teeth digging into his lower lip. Andrew goes back inside to find Neil’s bunny backpack. He feels inside to make sure it’s empty. He isn’t sure how Neil might react to the sight of a gun or knife just now. Satisfied that it’s safe, he brings it to the door. Neil immediately clutches it with one hand, holding on to his phone tightly in the other, as he steps out in the hallway. Andrew is sure to lock up for him. 

“We are going to my house,” Andrew tells him. Neil nods but doesn't say anything. When they're in the car, Andrew turns on some soft classical music for Neil and tells him to rest. Neil curls up in his seat and drifts into a light sleep, nibbling on the bunny’s ear. 

When Andrew gets to his house, it takes a bit of work to coax Neil awake and out of the car. He’s bleary-eyed and a little dazed as he follows Andrew into the house. His sippy cup is empty again, so once Andrew has settled Neil on the couch with a blanket, he refills the cup for him. Neil frowns and tries to put the cup on the end table, but Andrew forces it back into Neil's hand.

“Keep drinking,” Andrew commands. 

“But I don't wanna,” Neil mumbles around the plastic tip. He looks up at Andrew with his big blue eyes and blinks slowly. Andrew would almost swear Neil was high - but he knew better. 

“Neil, what happens when I bring you to my house?” Andrew asks, drawing back more and checking to make sure Neil understands what’s expected of him. If he isn’t, Andrew might have to consider a different approach for helping Neil out of his funk. 

“A scene begins,” Neil says quietly and just a tad thoughtfully. The fingers of his other hand dig into his bunny, kneading the fluffy material. 

“If you do not wish for a scene to happen, you know what to say,” Andrew reminds him. Neil nods slowly to show his understanding. Andrew reaches out carefully and combs his fingers through Neil's tangled, damp hair. Neil tilts his head into Andrew's palm as he lightly sucks on the sippy cup. “I think you need to have someone care for you for a while. If you cannot remember to bathe or dress yourself or eat properly, perhaps I should take matters into my own hands.”

Neil squirms a little as he looks up at Andrew. “Will the rules be different, Sir?”

Andrew considers this for a moment and finally nods. “Your safe word will always end a scene. That never changes.” Neil nods, and Andrew allows the non-verbal answer if only because he didn’t actually ask a question. “However, since you do not want to care for yourself like an adult, I will make all of your decisions for you. When you eat, when you drink, when you sleep, even when you go to the bathroom.” 

Neil's eyes crinkle at the edges with a smile. He’s done this sort of thing before, Andrew knows, and in the right circumstances, he enjoys it. “Yes, Sir.” He drinks a little more of his water, then frowns at Andrew. “Can I ask permission for those things?”

“You may ask,” Andrew says, “but that does not mean you will get permission.” Neil nods. “Now, I am going to sit beside you and do some work. You will be very quiet and drink your water. When your cup is empty, you will tell me so that I can refill it for you.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Neil says sweetly. He curls against one arm of the couch until after Andrew has made himself comfortable along the other end. “Can I put my head in your lap?” Andrew nods and lifts his arm so Neil can lie down. Neil immediately crawls closer and curls up with his head on Andrew's thigh, one hand tucked under his leg, and the other clutching his sippy cup, his bunny resting against his chest. Andrew is thoughtful enough to turn on the tv for Neil, but he keeps the volume very low. 

Neil is perfectly quiet and mostly still as he lies on the couch and sips at his water. When his cup is empty, he taps Andrew's arm to get his attention and ask for more. Andrew eases Neil to the side and stands to go the kitchen to fill his cup for him again. When he returns, they settle into place once more.

Andrew only has to fill the cup once more before Neil begins to squirm. “Can I go pee?” Neil asks with a quiet whine, lifting his head and tapping Andrew's arm to get his complete attention. 

“No,” Andrew says simply. “Lie back down.” Neil makes a soft, wounded noise, but he obeys. He very reluctantly drinks from his sippy cup. Andrew tugs at some of his curls. “Drink. You need to hydrate.” Neil pokes his lip out in a pout around the tip of the sippy cup, but he sucks at it anyway, making the sound obnoxiously loud this time. 

“I have to pee,” Neil whines again just a moment later. “Sir!” He sits up and rests his chin on Andrew's shoulder. “Will you let me go now?” He rubs his thighs together, pulling the blanket with him. 

“Not yet,” Andrew says, voice dull and bored. “You have not earned bathroom privileges.” Neil frowns at him, likely confused about how to _ earn _bathroom privileges, but Andrew ignores it. 

He knows Neil isn’t up for considering the cost and benefit of things at the moment, not really. Judging by the state of his apartment, he’d been lying on his couch for at least two days, and he had sunk into an instant-gratification cycle that demanded no consequences for anything. And Andrew can understand - he’s been there himself - but he also knows Neil cannot stay like that. Removing all ability for Neil to make decisions, taking complete control of everything he did for a while, usually broke him out of the cycle. For all Neil truly is the best submissive Andrew has ever had the pleasure of dominating, he has his limits. 

Not too long after that, Neil is crossing and uncrossing his legs repeatedly. Andrew reaches over and rubs one hand down Neil's front from his chest to his belly. He finds Neil's bladder and presses down softly, rubbing in slow circles. Neil whines, louder this time, but he doesn't try to wriggle away. Andrew wonders if Neil has figured out his intentions yet. Neil usually catches on quick, though they haven’t yet done this. Water sports had always been a soft no on Neil’s list, but when they’d modified their contracts, Andrew had found the change and fully intended to take advantage - even if it wasn’t something he genuinely got off on. Neil did, and in this situation, that was more important.

“Stop,” Neil whines, twisting to hide his face against Andrew's shoulder. “I need to pee, Sir! You're making it worse.” He summons his tears and squeezes his bunny to his chest over Andrew's hand. He draws in a deep breath and sobs loudly as Andrew presses just a little harder to his bladder. “I'm gonna pee,” he cries. “Can't hold it!” Andrew learned long ago to never trust Neil’s tears - he can turn them on and off like a fucking faucet. 

Andrew suddenly stops and takes his hand away. Neil drags in a stuttering breath. “Stand up,” Andrew commands gently. He stands first and faces Neil. Neil stands, sniffing and still trying to squirm with his thighs squished together. He cuddles his bunny, pushing one of its long fluffy ears into his mouth, and nibbling at it anxiously. Andrew puts one hand on Neil's shoulder and guides him to the master bedroom and through to the bathroom. Neil tries for a cautious smile when he realizes where they're going, but Andrew doesn't acknowledge it.

In the bathroom, Neil tries to go straight for the toilet. Andrew grips Neil's shoulder hard to stop him. Neil turns his wide, wet eyes on Andrew. “Sir?” he asks, his lip trembling. 

“Turn and face the mirror,” Andrew says. Neil reluctantly obeys, but he does. Andrew steps behind Neil and wraps one arm around Neil's belly. The other hand he presses to Neil's shoulder. He places a delicate kiss to Neil's shoulder as he taps the area between Neil’s dick and his belly button a few times and makes Neil bend forward over the counter and brace one of his hands to support himself. 

“No,” Neil protests. “Sir, don't!” He doesn't try to pull away, but he's trembling now. He lifts his bunny high, clutching it to his chest as tightly as he can. He makes a pretty picture, holding himself upright with one shaking arm, his face red and wet with tears, and all his pretty light colored and white clothes just waiting to for stains. He’s bent over just enough that it looks like Andrew could fuck him from behind - but it’s not time for that. 

Andrew lifts the hand on Neil's shoulder and wraps his fingers around Neil's chin, forcing him to turn his head toward the mirror. “Look at yourself,” Andrew says in a low, quiet voice. His trembling increases as he tries to fight the need to pee, but he won’t succeed. Andrew moves his hand from Neil’s waist down to his thigh, digging his fingers into the muscle along the inside of his leg and dragging them up his leg. Neil whines, high-pitched and strained, and Andrew has to grip his chin even tighter as he tries to look away from himself and hide from the sight. 

A moment later, a thin yellow stream of piss begins to stream down Neil's leg. It stains his fluffy white shirt and the soft white panties and pools in the thick white socks on his feet. 

“Such a messy boy,” Andrew mocks in a low voice. “Ruining your pretty clothes, getting dirty.” Andrew keeps rubbing Neil's bladder and watches as he continues to pee. “You cannot do anything on your own, can you?” 

Neil lets out another whine, shutting his eyes as tears stream down his face and shakes his head. He’s still squirming helplessly. Andrew holds him until he calms, rubbing his chest near where he’s still desperately clutching at his bunny and combing his fingers through his hair. He’s hiccuping softly around his bunny’s ear and refusing to look at himself in the mirror.

“Sir,” he mumbles, voice soft and mournful. “I’m messy.” he rubs his thighs together again.  
  
Andrew runs a hand over his side. “Yes,” he says, “you are. Silly baby. Unable control yourself.” he murmurs. He hates how much he relishes in the control he has over Neil right now. Hates that he’s enjoying this - the whining and squirming, and the knowledge that Neil is going to do anything he’s told. But Neil needs this - the thin line between being coddled and getting a firm hand. 

“I can’t,” Neil agrees, still hiccupy and teary, and upset. “Will you take care of me, Sir?” 

Andrew nods, and kisses the top of his head. “I will handle every decision for you.”

Neil nods his acceptance. “May I have clean undies?” He turns his head to peer at Andrew from under his eyelashes, his chin tucked toward his chest to make himself seem shorter, smaller. It doesn’t quite work - not when they’re standing so close together.  
  
“No. You made a mess, and you willl sit in it.” Andrew says. He plucks at a clean spot on Neil’s skirt to use as an example. 

“I don’t like it,” Neil whines, pointedly not looking at himself. He’s squirming, though - his hips swaying slightly as he rubs his thighs together. 

“No? You should have thought of that before you wet yourself.” He leaves Neil standing by the sink and goes to the linen closet near the tub and picks one of his older towels. He gives it to Neil, then leads him back to the living room. He tosses it on the floor for Neil to kneel on. He won’t allow Neil to sit on his couch in the state he’s in, and it seems cruel to make him sit on the bare hardwood floor. Perhaps later, if necessary.  
  
“May I have my phone?” Neil asks, batting his eyelashes and trying for sweet.  
  
Andrew shrugs and grabs it from the table while Neil situates himself beside the coffee table. He still has work to do, and while Neil is still quiet and subdued, he is less empty than he was before. He notices Neil texting, but doesn’t ask, choosing instead to grab his laptop now that he has the space and focus on his briefs for Monday.  
  


Daddy Seth  


**Baby Boy:**Sir made me wet myself :( :( :( :( :(  
  
**Daddy Seth:**aw poor little baby is a mess. Why?  
  
**Baby Boy:**was bein dumb  
  
**Daddy Seth:**ur not dumb, baby  
  
**Baby Boy:**not me  
  
**Baby Boy:**the baby brain was bein dumb  
  
**Baby Boy:**:((  
  
**Daddy Seth:**oh, neil, baby! U shud have said something! Is Andrew taking care of you?  
  
**Baby Boy:**yes. but he’s bein mean! made me drink lots of water, n then i wet myself, n now he’s not letting me have clean undies, but i don’t like bein messy, u know i dont!  
  
**Daddy Seth:**how mean of him :D did u cry?  
  
**Baby Boy:**yesses! cried lots. but i have my bunny n my phone. Im so wet n gross tho :( :( :( :(  
  
**Daddy Seth:**oh?? Can i see ????  
  


Andrew is distracted from his reading when the banner for a new text message interrupts the flow of his pdf. He rolls his eyes when he sees who it is from. He should have known Neil would revert to texting Seth if he wasn’t actively paying attention to him in a time like this. It wasn’t that he minded, it was just tedious when Seth insisted on acting as if Andrew was an incompetent dom.  
  


Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy)  


**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**is neil okay??????  
  
**Andrew Minyard (Landmann & Zack):**im taking care of him. y?  
  
**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**he’s complaining about you being mean  
  
**Andrew Minyard (Landmann & Zack):**complaining?  
  
**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**“sit made me wet myself he’s so mean!!” did he cry?  
  
**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):***sir  
  
**Andrew Minyard (Landmann & Zack):**yes  
  
**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**don’t buy it. he turns those tears on like a fawcett is2g  
  


Andrew rolls his eyes. He knows that. Seth might have been the one to tell him originally, but it wasn’t as if it hadn’t been over a year since he and Neil had signed contracts and began playing together.  
  


“Sir,” Neil’s voice, sweet and cautious, interrupts him before he can answer Seth’s text.  
  
He looks up, his thumb hovering over the screen. “Yes?”  
  
“May I send Daddy Seth a picture?” he pauses, color rising to his cheeks. Neil is more responsive when he’s in this mindset. It doesn’t happen often, for which Andrew is honestly grateful, but there are certain benefits. He also has a pretty good idea of how the conversation between Neil and Seth must have gone for him to be asking permission. He debates with himself.  
  
“Do you want to send him a picture?” he asks, genuinely curious. Neil didn’t seem to mind sending naughty pictures, but pictures and filming during scenes was one of his limits. Then again, this wasn’t exactly a scene. Even if he is only sending the picture to Seth, it seems like a big step to push one of those limits while he’s in this headspace. He’s tempted to say no to stop Neil from having to make the decision at all, but Neil answers before he can.  
  
“Yes,” Neil mumbles. He seems even more ashamed of that fact, a blush rising to his cheeks.  
  
“You may,” Andrew says, and Neil rewards him with a shy smile. He spreads his thighs a little and angles his phone so his face isn’t in the shot. Just his pale thighs, and his ruined panties, and the lower half of the bunny. 

Andrew hopes Seth will appreciate it, though it doesn’t do the real thing justice. Neil is pretty even when he’s sad. It almost makes him want to force Neil to cry for real - not more fake tears, but genuine sobbing and snot, the whole nine yards. 

Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy)  


**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**lemme kno if u need help, yeah?  
  
**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**he needs cuddles & to be babied like whoa  
  
**Seth Gordon (City Council/Neil’s Daddy):**take care of him  
  


Andrew doesn’t think the text particularly requires a response, so he drops his phone off to the side. He returns to his work, not giving it his all as his attention frequently darts over to where Neil is kneeling by the coffee table, his upper body propped up by one single elbow resting on the edge while his phone sits on the table itself, his head bent over it. He’s zoned out again, poking listlessly at the children’s game on his phone. Every few seconds, he rearranges his skirt and sweater, like he truly does not enjoy the sensation of the wet fabric on his skin. 

“Would you like a bath, baby?” Andrew asks. He can’t manage the sweet, babying tone he’s heard others use with Neil - that isn’t wired into his personality and he isn’t sure he’d be capable even if he tried - but the words are right, and he hopes that’s enough. The few tentative ideas he’d been thinking of before can wait for later or a different scene. He won’t fuck Neil in this mindset. 

Neil rolls his head to the side and blinks, long and slow, at Andrew before nodding. He chews a little on his bunny’s ear, but even that looks like it takes him more effort than he’s willing to expend at the moment. Andrew saves his work and sets his laptop to the side before standing and crossing to where Neil is sitting and watching him. He crouches and takes one of Neil’s hands in his own, then tugs the bunny’s ear out of his mouth.

“Come with me and you can get cleaned up,” he says. “You must leave your bunny and your phone here.” Neil nods and sets his bunny on the table beside his phone. Andrew tugs Neil to his feet and keeps his hand as he leads him back to the bathroom. He leaves Neil standing in the middle of the floor and turns to start the tub. When he looks at Neil again, Neil is staring off into space, his fingers twisted in the wet skirt. 

Andrew eases Neil’s fingers loose and tugs sharply on a lock of his hair to get his attention. There’s a flash of attention, recognition, and then it’s gone again, faded behind the haze. Andrew thinks he understands, now, that Neil is running from something in the only way he can. 

“Raise your arms over your head,” Andrew says, his voice soft and low. He doesn’t sound warm or inviting or particularly coddly, but Neil raises his arms all the same. Andrew slides the sweater up his chest an inch at the time, taking care to draw out the sensation of the fabric grazing over Neil’s skin. “Good boy,” he murmurs once he tugs the sweater over Neil’s head and tosses it toward the hamper in the corner. He’ll pick it up later. “So good, listening and doing what I say.” He drags his fingertips over the scars on Neil’s forearms, careful not to let his short nails rake the skin.

Neil lists toward Andrew, soaking up the compliment with eyes half-closed. Andrew drags his fingers through Neil’s hair, scratching over his scalp and tugging at his auburn locks. He needs a haircut, really, but Andrew isn’t about to suggest it right now. With his other hand, he traces over the scars on Neil’s torso - the iron brand across his shoulder and the longer slash marks on his chest, the road rash skinning up his side, and the bullet hole pucker near his arm. Neil leans into the touch, sighing softly and letting his eyes fall closed. 

With Neil relaxed and calm, Andrew moves on, sliding his skirt down over his hips and letting it fall with a damp sound to the tile floor around Neil’s feet. He lifts each of Neil’s feet by gripping the back of his thigh, helping him step out of the skirt and over toward the tub. The water is nearly halfway to the top of the tub, so Andrew helps Neil step into it and keeps a firm hold on his hand and arm as he eases Neil down into the hot water. As soon as he’s relaxed against the back of the tub, Andrew grabs the strawberry scented bubble bath Neil favors and pours it into the water near the faucet. Neil smiles faintly as bubbles erupt across the water, though he doesn’t reach up to play with them as he might usually.

“You are very pretty,” Andrew says, reaching up to smear a few bubbles across Neil’s cheek. Neil flushes pink and squirms a little, like he can’t quite believe Andrew is being truthful. “My beautiful, sweet boy.” 

“Sir,” Neil whispers, his voice soft and a little whiny. 

“Shh,” Andrew says. “Just sit there and let me take care of you.” He grabs the sponge from the ledge and soaps it up, then takes Neil’s hand in his and begins to scrub gently at Neil’s arm. He works his way around Neil’s arm and up to his shoulder, then scrubs over his chest and has him sit forward so he can scrub Neil’s back. Neil sighs, soft and content, when Andrew has him relax against the tub once more and begins to work on scrubbing his other arm. 

He shifts to the other end of the tub and tugs one of Neil’s feet out of the water and props it on the edge of the tub before repeating the same process he’d done with Neil’s arms but stopping when he reaches the edge of the water. He washes Neil’s other leg as well, then has him kneel in the center of the tub so he can scrub him clean everywhere else. 

“Perfect, baby,” Andrew murmurs, helping Neil settle in the water once he’s finished. He hadn’t teased - had been more or less clinical. Neil doesn’t seem terribly upset, thankfully. Andrew is already pushing his own limits in helping Neil in this way - in infantilizing him, even if Neil enjoys it. “You are doing so well for me, my sweet boy.”

Neil flushes bright pink again and looks near tears. Andrew leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead, one of the few things he feels he can manage and still stay within the comfort of his personal limits. When he sits back on his heels, Neil is crying - and Andrew doesn’t think he’s faking it this time.

He doesn’t ask why, just brings up one hand to smear the tears across Neil’s cheek. He still loves the way Neil looks when he cries, even if he usually looks less like he’s been through the wringer emotionally. He’s developed a near pavlovian response to the sight of Neil’s tears, but he tamps it down. Now isn’t the time, and he won’t indulge. 

“Let’s go lie down,” Andrew says, drawing Neil up out of the water to stand. He reaches over to drain the tub, then grabs one of the fluffy, soft towels Neil likes and wraps it around his shoulders. He holds Neil’s hand and keeps him steady as he climbs out of the tub, then dries him off once he’s certain Neil won’t fall. He leaves the damp towel on the floor in the bathroom with Neil’s clothes and takes him by the hand to lead him to the bedroom. 

He has plenty of Neil’s clothes at his house, now, so once he’s lifted Neil up to set him on the bed, he goes to the dresser and find one of Neil’s nightgowns. This one is light pink with dark red strawberries printed across it and hemmed with white lace. He gathers it in his hands and loops it over Neil’s head, then tucks his arms through each sleeve and tugs it down to settle around Neil’s waist. 

“When was the last time you ate, babydoll?” Andrew asks, his voice mostly monotone and not as gentle as it should have been for the type of care he was giving Neil. He sits beside him and lifts his arm for Neil to lean against him, settling it around Neil’s back. 

Neil shrugs and curls tight against Andrew’s side, one of his hands twisting into Andrew’s shirt. “Dunno. A while.”

Andrew rubs Neil’s back. “Thank you for being honest, sweetheart. I will go and fix you something to eat. Do you want to come with me to the kitchen, or would you rather nap here?”

“Stay with you, Sir,” Neil answers, sounding almost childish with insecurity. Andrew presses a kiss to Neil’s temple, then gently shifts him away from his side so he can stand. 

“Come on,” Andrew says, taking Neil’s hand. Neil slides off the edge of the bed and nearly stumbles, but he catches himself before he falls against Andrew, and Andew is reminded of just how much thought and care Neil puts into not touching him without permission. It’s the little things like that that made Andrew decide to give Neil what he needs today instead of foisting him off on Seth. He feels he owes it to Neil to care for him the way he needs to be cared for, even if it isn’t something with which he is familiar or even entirely comfortable.

He leads Neil out to the kitchen and has him sit on one of the bar stools in the corner, but within a couple feet, so he can make a quick lunch for Neil. He cooks some plain chicken in tiny, bite-sized pieces and some sweet potatoes to go with it. He feeds Neil each bite right there in the kitchen, praising him quietly for each bite and having him drink plenty of water from his pink princess sippy cup. Neil doesn’t finish everything, but Andrew doesn’t try to force him to, either. Instead, he leads Neil back to the couch and has him sit before giving him his bunny - but not his phone. 

Neil stares at his phone on the table, but he doesn’t ask for it. Andrew grabs a blanket and drapes it over Neil’s legs. “You may have your phone back after a nap,” he says gently. “I doubt you’ve slept enough lately, either.” Neil looks down at his lap and twists the blanket in one fist, his other locked securely around his bunny. “You are not in trouble, sweet boy, I only want to help you get to where you need to be once more, all right?” 

“Yes, Sir,” Neil says quietly. Andrew sits on the couch, then tugs Neil over so that his head is on Andrew’s thigh. “Are you sure, Sir?” Neil’s voice is small and uncertain. Andrew doesn’t know why, or what caused it, but he hopes this fades once Neil manages some sleep. 

“Yes, Neil,” he says, scratching his fingers through Neil’s hair in long, gentle strokes. He leaves the tv on a low volume and taps at his phone with his free hand, answering emails and corresponding with Wozniak about a case they’re working together. It doesn’t take long for Neil to relax fully and begin snoring soft, quiet sounds. 

Neil sleeps for nearly three hours. Andrew’s leg has long since fallen asleep, but he hasn’t moved. He knows Neil needs the sleep, needs to reset his brain and his body, and he’ll stay sitting in the same spot for as long as necessary. He isn’t precisely disappointed when Neil begins to wake, but he wishes Neil had been able to sleep a bit more. At least this way he might be able to sleep again tonight without too much difficulty. 

“Are you feeling better, Neil?” Andrew asks, rubbing his hand across Neil’s back.

“Yes, Sir,” Neil says, and his voice is stronger - not quite so timid and soft. “Thank you. I - I needed that.”

Andrew hums his agreement, but he doesn’t make Neil sit up right away, and Neil makes no move to do so on his own. “Will you tell me what happened, now?”

“I can’t,” Neil says quietly but firmly. “It’s - family business.” Andrew squeezes Neil’s shoulder lightly. He doesn’t like it, but he understands. There are things he is unwillingly involved in sometimes with the Hatfords that he cannot discuss, especially not with Andrew because he works for the Moriyamas. He takes a deep breath, then says, “Thank you for being patient with me. We can go to Eden’s tonight, if you want.”

“Are you certain you are up for that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Neil says confidently. “I’ve missed Eden’s. I’ve missed _ you _.” It’s only been a week since they’ve been to Eden’s, but even during their last trip, Neil seemed more checked-out than usual, and they hadn’t participated in any scenes that night. He sits up slowly, and Andrew helps him, then allows Neil to curl close to him and rest his head on his shoulder. “I might not be able to handle a scene there tonight, but I want to see everyone. They’re my family - more than my blood relatives.”

Andrew nods and tugs on a lock of Neil’s hair. “Very well. We’ll go and you can dress up instead. The latex?”

Neil turns his head and smiles at Andrew. “I’d like that very much, Sir.” 

Andrew will be glad when things finally get back to normal, but he doesn’t mind giving Neil what he needs when he needs it - that’s part of what they do, after all. It’s give-and-take and there’s a delicate balance to it all. Just because he is Neil’s dom doesn’t mean he only takes and Neil only gives. They’ve built this thing between them together, and they’ve pushed each others limits, and they’ve grown. 

It’s still nothing, though. 


	2. jerejean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what up, y'all, have some sweet af jerejean  
pairing: jerejean  
warnings: praise kink  
rough sex  
no safewords  
not really bdsm-style like the rest of this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has not been edited or even read thru a second time so mistakes are gonna be there  


Eden's had a boisterous crowd on the weekends, particularly Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. College students from within and outside the city flocked to the club, as did minor celebrities, wealthy business people, and all sorts looking to cash in on their presence. Jean often felt like he and Renee weren't enough on those nights, though Roland would jump from behind the bar at only a word, and, when Kevin and Riko were there, they would assist to if it became necessary. It had only been necessary a time or two, but still. Jean felt overwhelmed. 

Kevin had brought some of his new teammates. Jean wasn't impressed, not really, but the one man was far more attractive than any of the others Jean had seen so far. The team had only just finished trade deals and swaps, and this was Kevin's - and Riko's - way to gauge them and see where they might prove beneficial outside an exy court. But just because Jean understood it didn't mean he had to like it. 

He finished draining a cup of water at the bar as Renee walked over to him, waving back toward the crowd and the stage where the DJ had set up for the evening. "There's something going on out there," she said, panting hard. "You're up. I'll take the door for the next hour." He nodded and signaled to Roland for another water, for Renee this time, before threading his way through the crowd. Bodies were tightly packed into the space, but he was tall and broad, and it didn't take much effort to force them to move. His scowl probably only helped.

When he finally broke through a portion of the crowd, it was to find a few of faces he dimly recognized as regulars shouting at a man who had a too-firm hold on the teammate of Kevin's who Jean had been admiring earlier. The man who held him had one hand digging bruises into - Johnny, Jeremy, Jeffrey? Something like that - their arm. He was older and taller, though not as tall as Jean, and he had the sort of face Jean disliked on principle. The man reminded him of a much younger, uninjured Riko who had simply  _ taken _ whatever he'd wanted. This man, with his other hand fisted in Kevin's teammate's hair, had a similar look. 

Jean grabbed the man's wrist where his fingers were bruising dark tanned skin, and he dug his fingers into the pressure point, forcing the man to let go. His other hand left Kevin's teammate's hair freely as he took a sloppy swing at Jean. It was nothing to catch the fist and twist the man, wrenching both hands behind his back and pinning him in a hard, uncomfortable hold. His eyes drifted over Kevin's teammate, searching for more than just the few bruises he could see. His blond hair was in disarray, but he didn't look badly injured, only shaken. 

"Do you wish to press charges?" Jean asked. He'd tell Ichirou, if that was the case, and Ichirou would handle the man. Kevin's teammate pressed his lips in a thin line and shook his head, but he looked uncertain. "Come, follow me." 

Jean shoved the man he still held tightly through the crowd, and two women spat on him as they passed. Jean could only smile, a little, pleased. He shoved the man into the empty office near the back exit and closed the door. It locked. 

"What, um, what are you going to do with him?" Kevin's teammate eyed the door warily. "Also, thank you for stopping him." He rubbed the back of his head gently. "Guy came out of nowhere."

"I'll take his picture," Jean said, and waved at the wall of Polaroids that marched out in uneven lines from the door jamb. "He will be informed that he is no longer welcome here, and should he try to show his face again, we will have him arrested for trespassing." Or worse, Jean didn't say, but he wasn't going to frighten Kevin's teammate before he'd been welcomed by Riko at the least, Ichirou preferably. "Come with me." He left the man locked in the office - there was little in there to damage or steal, after all, and there were cameras enough to cover every blindspot the room might have had - and he led Kevin's teammate toward the bar. Renee was at the door, a small, knowing smile on her face. Jean merely scowled at her. 

He signaled to Roland, and he held up two fingers. "Roland will get you a drink. On the house, for your mishap." 

Kevin's teammate blinked in surprise. "Oh. Um. Thank you?" He twisted around to face the club and squinted against the lights. "My friends sort of ditched me. Can't say I'm surprised." He snorted and smiled - a beautiful, beaming thing, aimed at  _ Jean _ of all people. "I'm Jeremy Knox, by the way." He held out his hand. 

"Jean Moreau." He shook Jeremy's hand quickly. "I have rounds. You came with Kevin, yes?" Jeremy blinked in surprise and nodded. "I'll send him your way." He gave Jeremy a brief, fleeting smile, and headed back into the throng of moving bodies.

* * *

"Jeremy's cute, isn't he?" Renee sounded far too innocent in her question. Jean raised an eyebrow at her from where he was helping to collect glasses from the tables around the edges of the big dance floor. She laughed, like a windchime, and Jean looked away. "He asked me about you before he left, you know."

Jean paused and looked at her once again. "What did he say?" He tried to keep any inflection from the question, but Renee knew him far too well by now, and she smiled beatifically. He narrowed his eyes. "Don't play games." 

She held up one hand in surrender. "He wanted to know when you worked. I told him." Her smile faded. "Was that all right?" 

Jean nodded tightly. This happened, from time to time. He would play the part of the rescuer and whichever person he happened to whisk from danger would seek him out, offer to repay his kindness somehow. He always turned them down. They rarely ever came back, and if they did, they didn't try to pursue him again. He didn't like finding dates here. He wasn't what these people were after. He didn't trust them, either. Jeremy was beautiful in a way Jean hadn't often seen, but it would never work between them. 

"Kevin is bringing him back next weekend," Renee offered. "You could try talking to him again." 

"No," Jean said quietly. A door opened, and they both looked over. It was the door near the back exit that led upstairs to where Ichirou's office and more private rooms were located. Neil paused long enough to wave, no trace of a smile on his face, and then he slipped through the back exit. Jean frowned. He hadn't seen Neil all night, and he clearly wasn't wearing his usual club attire. He'd been dressed in close-fitting dark jeans and a black hoodie. 

"It seems Ichirou has need of Neil," Renee said, her voice barely more than a whisper. Jean nodded in agreement. He wondered where Andrew was. He'd learned to let Andrew take care of Neil, but it was difficult not to worry. Jean still remembered the skittish, frightened little thing Neil had been when he'd first made his way to Eden's. "I hope he can handle it." 

"He can." Jean knew that for a fact. He recalled seeing Neil drenched in another man's blood just a few months' past. "He may not like it, but he can and will do whatever Lord Moriyama requires of him." 

They continued cleaning in silence until the floors had been swept and mopped and the entire place was clean and organized for the next night's party-goers. Renee walked with Jean to the back parking lot as she always did. 

"You should try. With Jeremy, I mean. It couldn't hurt anything, if he asks after you the next time he's here." 

He looked at her, and he knew she could see the infinite sadness in his expression. "It could hurt a great deal." 

Renee pressed her lips into a thin line, but she didn't argue. Jean climbed onto his bike and drove away before she could press the issue.

* * *

The next Thursday night, Jean was on door duty for his hour when Jeremy arrived, that same beaming smile on his face. Jean blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected Jeremy to return, much less to remember him. 

"Hi, Jean," he said cheerfully. He held out his ID, and Jean scanned it to allow him entrance. "Come find me when you have some time?"

Jean wasn't sure what it was that possessed him to nod, but he did, and Jeremy's smile grew impossibly wider just before he slipped inside. He continued with his work, though, cutting off the line of people after the counter on the scanner reached their maximum capacity. They complained, as they always did, but Jean turned a deaf ear to them and kept things from getting too rowdy until it was Renee's turn at the door. They liked switching often. It kept the night from getting too tedious. 

Once he made his way to the bar for a quick drink, he found Kevin speaking to Jeremy. Jeremy smiled at Jean again, then signaled he'd be right back before vanishing into the crowd. Kevin eyed Jean for a long, hard moment. Jean ignored him. 

"Riko wants him," Kevin said, his voice pitched only loud enough for Jean to hear. "Jeremy has… something of a reputation, and Riko wants to have his fun." 

Jean stiffened at that news. He didn't dare hiss the words he wanted to throw at Kevin, but he let his displeasure show in his posture, in how tightly he held the glass in his hand. He looked over at the balcony that hung suspended over the crowd and found Riko lounging against the railing, his eyes not on anything in particular. 

Kevin said nothing else, just wandered away. Jean knew Riko well enough, knew his methods, knew his style, and for all Jeremy had come back to Eden's - likely looking for a way to scratch a particular itch - that didn't mean he was up for Riko's brand of  _ fun _ . Jean had seen all types, and Jeremy didn't strike him as one of Riko's toys.

Everything Renee had said last week, and the few comments she'd made here and there since then, came back to him. Maybe he could allow himself to at least  _ ask _ . Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad as he thought. 

Jeremy returned to the bar just a short breath later, and Jean caught Riko staring from his spot on the balcony with Kevin by his side. He smiled, nasty, and Jean took a deep breath before facing Jeremy.

"Would you be interested in -"

"Wanna go out?" 

Jean and Jeremy both blinked at each other in surprise for a moment, and then Jeremy laughed, loud and cheerful. He propped himself against a free stool. "Were you asking me out?" Jean nodded. "Pretty sure you know the answer, but if it wasn't clear, that's a yes." He tugged his phone from his pocket and held it out, eyes wide and imploring. "Does that mean I can have your number?"

It took three heartbeats before Jean reached out and claimed the phone, typing in his name and number and saving it. Jeremy laughed again and sent a quick text, and Jean felt the responding buzz in his pocket. 

"There, now you have my number, too. Kevin invited me up to the top floor, which sounds hella interesting, I have to admit, and I know you have to work, but let me know when you're free?"

"Mondays and Tuesdays," Jean blurted.

"Monday night then," Jeremy said, winking. "I'll text you my address." He leaned up on his toes and pecked a sloppy little kiss to Jean's cheek. "Just let me know what time." And with that, he left, heading for the staircase. Jean watched as he went, caught sight of Riko's small smile up above, and got the distinct impression he'd just been played. 

He didn't let it bother him. 

When he told Renee later, while they were cleaning up, she smiled, soft and sincere. "I'm glad, Jean. You deserve some happiness, too, you know." Jean found he didn't have an argument to that, though he felt he didn't deserve any such thing. 

* * *

The remainder of the weekend passed in a blur. Jeremy sent him a lot of meaningless little texts throughout the day while Jean slept, every day without fail, and while Jean felt his responses were surely lacking, he couldn't help but enjoy what he got from Jeremy. They planned for Jean to pick Jeremy up at seven o'clock Monday night, which was late enough for Jeremy to get home from his daily practice with his new exy team and shower first. 

Jean hadn't been on a date in a long time, and the last one had been a disaster before it had even occurred, so he planned this one with ruthless efficiency. He ensured he had a reservation at the only French restaurant in the city of which he approved, even if it was a Monday night, and he knew exactly how he wanted the night to go. He'd even done a little research on Jeremy, learning he was from California through Kevin and looking up his statistics and some of his old exy games. 

Kevin hasn't been lying about Jeremy's little reputation, either. Some of the less reputable gossip magazines referred to him as a shameless playboy. Jean couldn't help but fret a little at that. He didn't do one-night stands. And for good reason. 

He enlisted Renee's help to dress for the evening, and she didn't mock him for his nerves. She simply picked his outfit - charcoal gray jeans and a black button down shirt - and even ran product through his hair to ensure it hid the scars along his forehead and jaw without making it seem too obvious that that was the goal. He stopped by a little cart on the street on the way to Jeremy's apartment and bought him a small bouquet on impulse. He'd never bought flowers for anyone other than Renee before, and as he delicately arranged them so they wouldn't be crushed in the storage compartment on the back, he hoped he wasn't being too stupid about it. They were pretty, though, even if he had no clue what they were. He only knew they were yellow and reminded him of Jeremy's bright smile.

The rest of the ride was quick, though Jean's nerves were beginning to show in how hard he clutched the handlebars. He hoped this didn't turn into a disaster. He parked his bike on the street and grabbed the flowers before going to the buzzer panel on the door and ringing Jeremy's apartment. It took a couple of long presses before the door unlocked with an audible click. Jeremy's apartment complex was far nicer than Jean's, though that wasn't much of a surprise. Jeremy was a professional athlete, after all, and Jean didn't make anywhere close to the same amount, even if Lord Moriyama had purchased his apartment for him to ensure his continued service and loyalty. 

That hadn't been necessary, considering all that Ichirou would do to Jean if he tried to leave, but it had still been appreciated. 

He rode the elevator in silence with an elderly woman who gave him a sly smile and a wink before she got off on a different floor. Jean clutched the flowers even tighter for a moment before remembering himself and relaxing his grip. He didn't want to kill them before he even had the chance to give them to Jeremy. When he reached the right door, he made himself take another deep breath and square his shoulders before knocking. 

There was a soft woof on the other side of the door, and then Jeremy was there, smiling and bright like the sun. Jean held out the flowers, and Jeremy's eyes went wide with shock. "Oh shit," he breathed, taking them from Jean like they were delicate and precious. He laughed, a little. "I don't think anyone's ever bought me flowers before." He stepped closer to Jean and stood on his toes to peck a kiss to his cheek, as he had done a few nights ago. "Thank you. They're pretty. Come inside for a sec and let me get these in a pitcher or something." He held the door open and Jean stepped inside. "I don't even have a vase or anything." 

He dashed into his kitchen and upended two cabinets before filling a glass pitcher with water and plopping the flowers in it. He caught Jean staring at the shaggy-looking yellow dog that had wandered over and sat, his tongue lolling from his mouth.

"That's Bart," Jeremy said, holding out his hand for the dog. It paced over to him and leaned into Jeremy's side. "He's great, don't worry. He won't hurt you or anything." 

"Bart?" Jean asked, unwilling to say that he'd never had a dog before, had never even really been around them. 

Jeremy led them back to the door, nodding. "Yeah, I got him from the shelter back in California a few years ago. He's a lab mutt, I guess. They'd given him the name, and it sort of stuck. He runs with me in the mornings." He locked the door behind himself and pocketed his keys. "So? Where are we going?" 

"Le Bernardin," Jean answered. "It mostly fish, but there are vegetarian and gluten-free options, as well." He cast a sideways look at Jeremy. "I was not certain if you had any allergies, and I quite remember what the diet is like as an exy player." 

"Sounds great." Jean wondered at how Jeremy could sound so bright and cheerful all the time. "And no, no allergies." He waited until they'd stepped into the elevator before continuing. "You played exy?"

Jean hummed and nodded. "With Riko and Kevin, in college." 

Jeremy whistled, low. "You were a Raven, then. That's intense. I've seen Kevin's drills. What position did you play?" 

"Backliner," Jean answered easily. "It was… not something I could continue beyond my fourth year." He didn't mention why, but he'd rather avoid any questions about why he hadn't done pro. Or joined the Olympic team, as Kevin and Riko had both done when they were still in college. 

"It's not something everyone chooses," Jeremy said, accepting Jean's cryptic words with an easy shrug. "It's a tough life. I bet working at Eden's keeps things interesting, though." He had a hint of wickedness in his next smile, and Jean had to resist the urge to press him against the elevator wall and kiss him stupid. 

Jean made a noncommittal sound. "It isn't boring, I'll say that much." He wanted to ask if Jeremy had let Riko tie him down and fuck him the other night, but he also didn't want to know. "What made you decide to switch teams?" 

"The team traded me," Jeremy said with an idle shrug, though Jean could see the hint of uncertainty in his movement and the slant of his lips. "Guess it was just time to shake things up." 

"Your statistics are impressive," Jean said as they left the elevator. He gave Jeremy a sly smile. "For someone who was not a Raven, that is." 

Jeremy made an indignant squawking sound, and Jean laughed, soft and short. "I took my college team to the finals four out of five years, and we won twice!" 

"As I said," Jean nodded, "impressive. You must keep in mind, the Ravens went to finals every single year, and we won all four years I played." Jeremy was only a little younger than he was. They'd probably even played against each other during Jean's last year. 

"Fair." Jeremy agreed easily. Jean led him over to his bike, wordless, and Jeremy made a low, appreciative hum. "This is beautiful." 

Jean grabbed the spare helmet from the compartment in the back and offered it to Jeremy. "Thank you. It was one of the first things I ever bought for myself." He wondered, briefly, where this honesty and sharing bits of himself is coming from, but he didn't question it. He knew he wouldn't say too much. 

He tossed one long leg over the seat first, then waved for Jeremy to climb on behind him. "Keep your hands on my waist and try not to move too much." 

"I've never ridden on one of these before." Jeremy sounded just a little nervous, and 

Jean smiled briefly as he tugged on his own helmet. Feeling bold, he tugged Jeremy's hands a little tighter around his waist, and then he cranked the bike with a soft roar. Jeremy clung to him, his chest pressed to Jean's back, and Jean pulled out into traffic. They couldn't speak easily over the sound of the bike, but that was all right. They had all of dinner to speak, and hopefully another dinner next week, if Jeremy was willing. 

It took a while to reach the restaurant, but Jean was glad to note they weren't late for the reservations he'd made. He was glad he made them, too, because it was unusually crowded considering it was a Monday. They were led to a table in the back corner, and Jeremy chose to sit with his back to the restaurant, likely so fewer people had the opportunity to recognize him and approach him for pictures or autographs. Riko was still mobbed quite often when he went out with Kevin. Jean didn't envy him (and in fact wished it would happen more just to annoy him). 

Jean ordered oysters and wine, and they fell into quiet talk about where Jean was from, their families - Jean relying on distant memories to make himself seem slightly more normal - and, of course, exy. Exy was easy to talk about, and Jean didn't have to flinch too badly from other things he would rather not discuss. 

After they'd ordered their dinner, Jeremy finished off his first glass of wine and asked, "So how did you wind up working at Eden's, anyway?" 

Jean went a little stiff, but he refilled Jeremy's glass with a steady hand. "Ichirou Moriyama owns the club." His voice was quiet, his eyes on the stretch of tablecloth between them. "I… owe him a debt. So, I work at Eden's to repay it." 

Renee had come, when he'd begged it of her, and had taken Jean from the Nest. She'd taken him straight to Ichirou, who had only just stepped into his father's place as overlord of the Moriyamas and their businesses. He had called for a doctor and had Jean patched together, like he was Humpty Dumpty in the nursery rhyme, and he'd organized Tetsuji's death by Riko's hand the moment the championship game was over. It had taken Jean months and two missed semesters to recover, and by then, he knew he would owe Ichirou Moriyama his life. 

"I'm sorry," Jeremy murmured, scratching at his neck nervously. "Shit. I'm really sorry."

Jean reached across the table and squeezed Jeremy's hand. "It's all right. You have nothing to apologize for." Jeremy looked uncertain. "Tell me about what you enjoy doing when you aren't playing exy." Jean made it a demand rather than a request, and Jeremy went along with the topic change willingly. 

The langoustine was delicious, and Jean ate every bite on his plate. He was pleased to see Jeremy enjoy his place of striped bass. They'd both swapped to water once the bottle of wine was gone, but Jean felt loose-limbed and content and full, and Jeremy's cheeks were the softest shade of pink as he stuttered over himself in his excitement to share a particularly amusing story about surfing with his friends Laila and Sarah. Jean chuckled along with Jeremy's happy peals of laughter, and he found himself desperately hoping Jeremy would accept an offer for a second date… 

Jean refused to let Jeremy pay for the meal, though Jeremy tried to offer, and they left on Jean’s bike, returning to Jeremy’s apartment complex. Everything Jean could plan, he had. He'd even offered dessert, but Jeremy hadn't wanted any. Jean was planning on saving the little ice cream place he'd found for a different evening. If there were more. He hoped there would be. 

The thing was, Jean didn't want this to be a one night stand. Even as he drove back to Jeremy's apartment, he planned only to walk him back to his door and then leave again. He wasn't a dom, wasn't fond of the entire one-and-done thing, and he wanted to see how things might progress with Jeremy. He understood the complexities of exy season, he had lived that life for a time. He wasn't going to ask for anything more than a few nights of Jeremy's time. Damn whatever Renee - or Kevin - might think of that arrangement. He was perfectly content to get to know Jeremy for a while first. 

Still, that said, he was shaking a bit when he finally got off his bike. He'd held it still first and offered Jeremy his arm so he wouldn't stumble, then took Jeremy's helmet and stowed it back in the compartment on the back of his bike. And then he was walking Jeremy inside. 

In the elevator, Jeremy smiled at him. "Dinner was great, and I had a great time. It's been a while since anyone spoiled me like that." His laugh was bright and beautiful. Jean wanted to swallow it from his mouth. "We've got an away game this weekend, but what do you say to another date once I'm back? Tuesday night?"

"I'd like that." Jean smiled, just a little, and Jeremy's grew bigger and brighter in response. They left the elevator, and Jeremy stopped at his door to unlock it. Jean stayed over the threshold, not entering. Like a vampire. "I should let you sleep. Have a good evening, Jeremy." 

It was Jeremy's puppy-dog expression that made Jean pause. "You won't come in for a little bit?" 

"I ah, I think…" Jean felt his hand clench by his side. "I think, not tonight." 

Jeremy leaned against the door frame. "Will you tell me why?" 

Jean wanted to kiss him. He wanted to lie. He wanted to run. The truth fell out of his mouth before he could quite stop it. "I don't want this to be a one night stand." He shut his mouth, hard, and looked away. 

A hand on his cheek, gentle and coaxing, turned his face back to meet Jeremy's eyes. "I know I'm something of a manslut," he laughed, "but this wouldn't be a one night stand." He stepped closer, then had to stand on his toes. Jean couldn't help but slide one hand to Jeremy's waist to help keep him balanced. 

And Jeremy kissed him.

He still tasted a little bit like his dinner. The spices that had been on the fish made Jean's lips tingle. And he tasted like wine, under that. Jeremy didn't do much more than just a kiss, ending it with a little nip to Jean's lower lip. He kept his hands on Jean's chest, then dropped them once he sank down to his heels. 

"Kinda wanted to do that since the other night when you got that guy off me," he said, a crooked smile on his face. "And, you know, ask you to rail me." Jean's eyes went wide, and Jeremy laughed again. "So. I swear this isn't going to be a one-time thing." His hands rested on Jean's hips. "Please?" 

His eyes were brown, and big, and he used them like a weapon. And Jean was more than a little helpless against them. He wrapped one hand around the back of Jeremy's neck and drew him in for another kiss. This one more heated. Jean licked into Jeremy's mouth, bit his lower lip, slid his fingers into Jeremy's hair and tugged just a little. Jeremy's moan echoed down the hall. 

The next thing Jean knew, Jeremy was dragging him inside, his tongue nearly down Jean's throat. Jean kicked the door shut and twisted to pin Jeremy to the wood, his free hand going for the hem of Jeremy's shirt and sliding it up. He wasn't as muscular or defined as Kevin, but Kevin had spent his entire life working on his body. Jeremy was softer, a little, and Jean found he liked that so much better. 

He grabbed Jeremy's hand just before he could slide it up under the hem of his shirt. "Don't," he said, voice low. 

"Sure, okay." Jeremy was breathless as Jean ducked to lick and kiss and nip at his neck, finding a sensitive spot just behind his ear and another near his collarbone. He tugged Jeremy's head to the side with the hand he had in his hair and used the hand he had on Jeremy's bare back, under his shirt, to tug him closer. He was already getting hard, and he could feel Jeremy's cock against his thigh. 

Jeremy whined at the next little bit Jean laid on his throat. It wasn't rough, not enough to leave an impression, much less a bruise, but it made Jeremy grind against him, harder. Jean moved back to Jeremy's mouth and  _ devoured _ . 

When he felt Jeremy's hands on his chest, he tensed once more, but Jeremy wasn't aiming to get under his shirt. He did push back a little, so Jean reluctantly let him go, his hand sliding to the back of Jeremy's neck, just to keep them connected, while the other rested on his hip. "I have a bed," Jeremy said, a smirk on his face and something like a challenge in his eyes. "A very big, very  _ comfortable _ -"

Jean kissed him once more, hard, then shoved him back a step. "Show me." His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth, the words harder to make sense of in English, even if he'd been speaking it most of his life. Jeremy laughed, breathless, and walked backwards with Jean at his front, keeping him steady. Jean slid Jeremy's shirt up his chest and over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He even allowed Jeremy to unbutton the top two buttons on his shirt, but he was quick to distract Jeremy after that, bringing them together against a different wall and grinding against him, tugging on his hair until he had free access to his neck, and squeezing his ass where he held Jeremy in place. 

Jean didn't like to think of himself as picky, but he'd definitely missed sleeping with athletes. And Jeremy's ass was nicer than Kevin's, anyway. 

Jeremy didn't let that stop them for long. He slipped sideways, tugging at Jean's arms and hips to hurry him along as they made it into Jeremy's bedroom. It was dim, but he could see there  _ was  _ a bed. A big one. He pushed Jeremy down on the bed, and Jeremy laughed as he fell to his back eagerly, already kicking off his shoes and working at the fly on his slacks. Jean was there in an instant, swiping away Jeremy's hands and doing it himself. He'd never been gifted many presents in his life, but he'd always enjoyed unwrapping them. Jeremy felt better than that under his hands and lips as he kissed across the freckles and thin hair. 

He yanked Jeremy's pants down over his hips just as his tongue found one of Jeremy's nipples, already pebbled in the cool room. Jeremy made a soft sound, and Jean sucked at it, hard, making him jump and his hips rock up. He didn't linger. There would be time for that, later, he hoped. For now, he wanted his mouth on Jeremy's cock. And the other way around. He placed a few sucking kisses down Jeremy's stomach, lapping at his navel once, and then tugging his boxers down over his hips. Jeremy's cock was already hard and flushed pink, curving back toward his belly. Jean wasn't as gentle as he probably could have or should have been as he gripped the base and sucked, hard, at the head, but judging from Jeremy's groan and the flex of his hips, he didn't mind. Encouraged, Jean lapped up more of it, not quite getting all of Jeremy's cock in his mouth. He yanked on Jeremy's pants and boxers with his hands, sliding them down further, and Jeremy kicked weakly at them to shake them away. 

"Fuck!" Jeremy yelped as Jean grabbed his thighs and slid him further up the bed. His hands scraped through Jean's hair, just short of pulling. His mouth slid off his cock and he nosed at Jeremy's thigh for a moment, placing a soft kiss there. "Lube. We need thay." Jeremy was trembling beneath him, and he didn't want to move, but be was right. "Drawer. Over there." Jeremy nodded to the bedside table where there was a lamp and a couple of exy magazines. 

Jean rolled his eyes at the sight of those. "Vain," he scoffed as he slid away from Jeremy and walked to the side of the bed. The magazines had Jeremy's face on the cover. 

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed, a laugh in his voice. "C'mon, hurry up." 

"Greedy, too." Jean watched as Jeremy slid up toward the pillows, already spreading his legs and stroking his cock a few times. He looked edible. Jean found the lube and condoms easily enough and tossed them by Jeremy's hip. He stopped long enough to kick off his boots, then he crawled over Jeremy, kissing him hard. Jeremy arched up against him, rubbing his cock against Jean's shirt without getting all the friction he was looking for. 

He found the lube by Jeremy's side and snatched it up, uncapping the bottle and squeezing probably too much on his fingers. He didn't wait, didn't give a warning, just pressed into Jeremy with two long fingers. Jeremy's fingers dug into his shoulders as his back arched, and he bit a little too hard at Jean's lip. 

"Too much?" Jean asked, a hint of a smirk on his face. Jeremy shook his head and shivered as Jean began to move his fingers in and out, slowly. "You seemed so greedy, I didn't want to wait." 

"Fuck, don't wait," Jeremy gasped against his neck. He yelped when Jean prodded at his prostate. "And don't you dare slow down." Jean laughed, softly and quietly, against Jeremy's chest, and kept going, scissoring his fingers wide. He slid down Jeremy's chest, licking and kissing here and there, until he reached his cock once more. 

He added a third finger, impatient and eager, as his mouth closed around Jeremy's cock. He didn't dare thing of Jeremy as his, not yet, but he wanted to, and that only spurned him on. Jeremy bucked his hips and nearly shouted as Jean spread his fingers wide and curled them into his prostate. There wasn't much point in dragging this out, not now. He wanted Jeremy, immediately, and he figured Jeremy would let him have him again to take his time later. Perhaps even later in the same night. 

"Jesus Christ," Jeremy moaned, his fingers digging into Jean's shoulders, hard. "C'mon, c'mon, fuck me already." He laughed, panting, and grinned wide as Jean popped off his cock to raise an eyebrow at him. "Please?" He raised his eyebrows and affected an innocent look that was entirely spoiled by the flush down his chest and his leaking cock in Jean's hand. 

"Since you asked nicely," Jean murmured, kissing the inside of his thigh. He carefully tugged his fingers away and smeared them against the rumpled sheets. He grabbed the condom and tore the little package open. He was surprised when Jeremy sat up, flexing his abdominal muscles, and went for his pants. Jeremy had them open and his hand around Jean's cock in seconds, and Jean groaned softly at the gentle squeeze. 

"I knew you were gonna be big, but fuck," Jeremy said, a grin on his face. He kissed Jean, sloppy and lopsided, as he took the condom from Jean's hand and slid it over his cock himself. "But we're gonna seriously have a problem if you don't hurry up."

"Impatient," Jean scoffed, but he didn't wait. He pushed Jeremy down once again and brought one of his thighs up over his arm. It took a little shuffling and some quiet snickers on Jeremy's part before Jean was lined up and could start pressing into him, slowly. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jeremy chanted, his head thrown back. He bit down hard on his bottom lip. Jean paused for a moment, waiting until Jeremy relaxed around him, waiting until Jeremy nodded at him, and then he continued pressing in deeper. "Don't stop, don't stop." Jeremy sounded wrecked already, and Jean smiled, fucking into him with little rocking motions until his hips met Jeremy's thighs. 

"Ready?" Jean bent forward and pressed a kiss to Jeremy's chin, folding him nearly in half to do so. Jeremy groaned, his nails dragging along Jean's shoulders over his shirt. 

"I'll only stop if you agree to lose some clothes," Jeremy said with a laugh. 

"Not tonight," Jean murmured, brushing a kiss over Jeremy's chest. He didn't apologize, just braced his knee harder against the mattress and withdrew a inch or so to fuck back into Jeremy. 

Jeremy gasped, loud, and moaned as he tightened his arms around Jean's shoulders, his heel digging into Jean's ass. "Move. Please. Fuck." He was gasping already, but Jean was out of what little patience he'd had. 

He slid out a few inches and snapped his hips, quick and sharp, and Jeremy nearly screamed. He didn't slow that pace, but he kept his thrusts shallow, for the moment, too focused on Jeremy's expression of bliss, marred only by the tightness around his eyes and at the way his teeth bit into his lower lip. He tilted his hips up, encouraging, and Jean obliged. 

"Gorgeous," Jean whispered, one of his hands dragging across Jeremy's chest. He pinched at one of Jeremy's nipples, light and quick, and Jeremy tightened around him, making him groan. He fucked him a little harder, for that, and it became a game. 

Jean would slow down or focus on shallow thrusts, and Jeremy would tighten around him and drag him closer with his hands and the heel against Jean's ass. Jean would speed up or fuck him a little harder, a little deeper, and Jeremy would laugh, a delighted, punched-out sound. He dug his fingers into the back of Jean's hair and began rolling his hips into every thrust, meeting him halfway. In return, Jean gripped his back and held him up with one hand, each thrust harder, faster, deeper. The bed rocked beneath them, the headboard smacking into the wall. It was like a drum, keeping tempo. 

Jeremy cursed and moaned and dug his fingers into Jean's shoulders, begging for "Faster," and "Harder," and just plain, "More," again and again. 

"Do you truly want more?" Jean asked, half breathless from the effort of holding Jeremy up by his hips and keeping the long, intense thrusts as quick as Jeremy wanted. 

Jeremy hummed, long and drawn out. "Yeah, please. Please more." 

"All right," Jean agreed, the smallest of arrogant smirks on his lips. He drew out entirely, ignored Jeremy's protests, and rolled him to his stomach. Jeremy got the hint quickly, sliding his knees under himself and arching his back so his ass was high in the air. Jean dragged him backwards and fucked into him roughly, making Jeremy hide his scream in a fist full of sheets. 

"You can scream," Jean said, breathless. "I like it." 

"Will that -  _ fuck _ \- make you go faster?" Jeremy asked, looking over his shoulder. 

"It might." Jean grinned, feeling light and open. He hadn't had anyone like Jeremy since he'd been with Kevin, years ago now, and things had been too difficult for them, anyhow. Kevin asked for things Jean couldn't provide. Jeremy, though. Jeremy was perfect. Jean slid his hands down Jeremy's back and gripped his hips tight enough to bruise before sitting up a little straighter and slamming his dick into him. 

Jeremy, head held back, shouted. Jean didn't slow, sliding his cock nearly all the way out before ramming into Jeremy hard and fast and as deep as he could get. One of Jeremy's hands flew to his cock, but Jean grabbed his wrist and slid it behind his back, knocking Jeremy forward onto his chest and pinning him there, getting a new angle that had Jeremy writhing. 

"Jean - Jean, please, fuck," he begged. Jean kept an eye on his other hand, twisted in the sheets over his head. "Touch me, please. Fuck." 

"Not yet," Jean said, laughing. "Feel free to come before that, but I like to take my time." He was breathless, half sure he was mangling English all together, and not ready to come just then. It took time, and effort, and he'd had more than one occasion to fuck his partner through multiple orgasms before he came at all. 

"Oh, Jesus, you are  _ evil _ ," Jeremy whined, but Jean could see the absurd grin stretching across half his face. "Gonna make me come untouched?" He was more breathless than Jean, his voice hitching with a hint of a moan every other word.

Jean squeezed Jeremy's hip and wrist tighter. "If I can, yes." He chuckled at Jeremy's whine of protest. "You're absolutely perfect, just like this." Jeremy's hips slammed back against his cock, and Jean bent to brush a kiss over Jeremy's arm. "Do you like that, then? That I think you're beautiful?" Jeremy was beat red, now, and he nodded rapidly, little soft moans forced out of his throat with each thrust. "You are," Jean swore. "Vain and greedy and impatient, but stunning right here, beneath me." 

"Shit," Jeremy whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't -"

"Don't what?" Jean asked, dropping his voice to barely more than a whisper as he leaned over Jeremy, letting go of his arm to hold himself upright beside Jeremy's head. "Don't say you're perfect? Don't say how much I like having you here, my cock filling you up, you screaming my name? Don't -" he stuttered over a breath as Jeremy tightened around him - "tell you how beautiful you are, your face red, my bruises on your hips?" He dug his fingers in even harder. Jeremy moaned, broken, and Jean slid the hand he had on Jeremy's hip around to his cock, stroking him too lightly to really bring him to orgasm. 

"Jean," Jeremy whimpered again. "Fuck, please, Jean. Please. I'm gonna come." 

"Will you?" Jean asked, tightening his grip and letting Jeremy fuck back on his cock and forward into his fist. "Show me. Let me see. I think it will be stunning." He could feel his own orgasm building, frighteningly quick for him, and he pressed his forehead against Jeremy's shoulder for a moment, letting Jeremy's sounds and the way he squeezed tighter around Jean's cock wash over him for a moment, two. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Jeremy arched his back, and two thrusts later, Jean felt hot come splattering over his fingers. He didn't stop, didn't take his hand away. "Jean," Jeremy panted. "Jean, please." 

He was becoming oversensitive, Jean knew. "A bit more, shh," Jean whispered against Jeremy's shoulder. He snapped his hips harder and deeper, two, three, four more times, and then stilled, Jeremy panting beneath him. He'd wrapped his arm around Jeremy's chest and had him pinned close and tight to his chest. For a long moment, he didn't move, just enjoyed the closeness. Jeremy's heart was still racing under his palm. 

He slid back, slowly, and ran his hand down Jeremy's back to soothe him as he shifted, tender and oversensitive and likely a little sore. He slid the condom off, quick and efficient, and nudged Jeremy until he was lying down. 

"Gimme a minute," Jeremy said, eyes closed. "Pretty sure I just had a religious experience for a moment there." Jean rolled his eyes, but he couldn't quite stop a small huff of laughter. He slid out of the bed and tugged his shorts to rights before stepping out of his pants and leaving them by his boots. He headed for the bathroom, a dim light shining from within to lead the way. He cleaned himself up, quickly, and then found a soft washcloth, soaked it in warm water, and carried it back out to Jeremy. He'd flopped over to his back, arms spread wide, and it only took a moment to clean him up. 

"C'mere," Jeremy muttered as soon as Jean finished. He took the washcloth and tossed it across the room before tugging Jean down onto the bed beside him. He rolled to his side and curled up around Jean, one leg flung over Jean's thigh and one arm clamped around his middle. "Don't leave." 

"If you like," Jean said quietly, curling one arm around Jeremy's shoulders and brushing though Jeremy's hair with his other hand. Jeremy smiled, eyes still closed, and pressed himself closer. "Gorgeous," Jean whispered again. He smiled, a little, delighted by the quick way Jeremy's cheeks heated at the compliment. 

"You really think that?" Jeremy peeked at Jean with one eye open. 

"Yes," Jean swore, pressing a kiss to Jeremy's forehead. "I do." He kissed his cheek. "The most gorgeous." He kissed his chin. "Beautiful." He kissed Jeremy's lips. "Perfect." 

"Shut up," Jeremy grumbled, tucking his head down around his shoulders. "Sleep." 

Jean combed his fingers through Jeremy's hair again. "Very well." 


	3. andreil - mile high club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles High Club ft. Andrew’s fear of heights? - anon on tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings:  
mile high club  
exhibitionism  
sex toys  
come-play (sort of)  
lil bit of degradation  
andrew's fear of heights  
manipulation

Neil knew Andrew didn't like heights. Andrew hated going out on his balcony for a cigarette, and that was only 8 floors up. Andrew didn't even really like standing on a chair to change a lightbulb in the ceiling. But Neil hadn't realized just how much Andrew hated flying until they were already on the plane, and he felt a little guilty for it. 

They were headed to England to meet Stuart in person. Ichirou had asked Andrew to go to settle some dispute in some contract they had between the families because Stuart couldn't leave, and Ichirou was tied up with business in Japan. Neil didn't mind going to see Stuart too much, it was his mother who distressed him. That left Neil feeling just as much like they were hurtling toward certain death as Andrew felt, if for different reasons.

The flight was a red-eye, and Ichirou had offered to let them use his second jet for the flight. There were two pilots and two stewardesses, but with the stewardesses in their small cabin near the pilots, the plane was empty. 

Looking for any sort of distraction to hopefully wear them both out to catch a nap before they landed and get ahead of some of the jetlag, Neil turned to Andrew and asked, "Wanna join the mile high club?" 

Andrew didn't answer at first. Neil poked his bottom lip out in a pout for a moment, but Andrew didn't pay him any mind then, either. Well, Neil figured, desperate times and all that. 

He stood and left the seat he was in beside Andrew, which made Andrew glance at him for a moment but then return his attention to the pen he was fiddling with in his hands. He grabbed one of his bags from the little storage closet near the tail of the jet and put it on the floor to open it and take out some of the toys he'd brought with him. He hadn't included many of them, but his favorite was the gold prostate massager he'd bought at Nicky's store for himself and Aaron. He smiled at Andrew, even if he wasn't paying attention, and grabbed a bottle of lube as well. 

There was a long couch across from where Andrew was sitting, still buckled, in his seat. Neil laid on it and stretched like a lazy cat, his arms over his head and toes pointed. He kicked off the little Mary Janes he'd worn with a simple and comfortable dress that was similar to a white tee shirt on top and was cut in half with a satiny pink ribbon and separated the white from the full, pink skirt that fell just an inch or two above his knees. He let the shoes fall to the floor with a soft thud, and then he slowly dragged the skirt part of the dress higher up his thighs, teasing himself with featherlight touches along the tender insides of his thighs. He still had a bruised bite mark on the left thigh, and he pressed his fingers into it lightly, tracing the outline. He let the skirt rest on his belly, exposing the light pink panties he was wearing beneath it. He wasn't quite hard, yet, but the panties framed his dick nicely in lace and silk. 

Andrew was watching from the corner of his eye, but he wasn't telling Neil to stop. Neil smiled at him. "May I touch myself, Sir?" He wanted to push Andrew into punishing him, at least a little, because then it would mean he couldn't be so painfully focused on the flight and his own anxiety. Still, he figured, for now, it was best to get Andrew's attention in a positive way. He didn't want him telling him no and making him stop, after all. 

Andrew nodded, once, and Neil beamed. "Thank you, Sir." He slid the tips of his fingers over his panty-covered cock and shivered. "I wish you would touch me instead," Neil said sweetly, pleading. "Your hands feel much nicer." He sighed as he reached between his thighs and rolled his balls in the palm of his hand, barely contained by the thin fabric. His cock grew harder, making the lace waistband pull up away from his hips and allowing the tip of his cock to poke out of the top. 

"Don't you want to touch me, Sir?" Neil pleaded, opening his eyes as wide as he could and lowering his chin so he could blink over at Andrew through his lashes. Andrew was looking at him directly, now, but he didn't say anything. "You can only join the mile high club if you fuck," Neil said, too sweet and innocent sounding for the words he spoke. "I want you to fuck me, Sir." Still, silence. "I can get myself prepped for you." He smiled again and slid his hand into his panties to wrap it around his cock and stroke it a few times, slow and light, just enough to make it fully hard. 

Neil arched his back and closed his eyes, moaning obscenely. It was a show he meant to perform well enough to make Andrew put aside his fear, at least for a little while. He reluctantly tugged his hand out of his panties and began to slide them down his thighs, inch by slow inch, until he reached the tops of his knees. He kicked them off after they slid to his ankles. He lifted his left leg and propped it along the top of the back of the couch, and he lowered his right leg to the floor, knee bent and spread wide. His cock rested along the crease of his thigh, and he delicately traced two fingers up and down the length of it. 

On the third downward stroke, he slid his hands over his balls and behind them to his ass, just touching, feeling. Andrew was staring at the pen in his hands again. "Don't you want to watch, Sir?" Neil whined. "I want to open myself up for your cock." 

Andrew's eyes slid over to Neil, narrowed. But he didn't say no, and Neil smiled sweetly. "May I, Sir?" he said. Andrew didn't turn away, and he took that as permission. Neil quickly spread some lube from the bottle in his free hand over his fingers and returned them to his hole. He pressed just one in, throwing his head back and moaning at the feeling. He pressed it deep inside himself, then slid it back out slowly. He added his second finger, and this time it burned because of the sudden stretch, but he welcomed it. 

"My fingers aren't as big as yours, Sir," Neil said, head turned to the side to look at Andrew. He knew Andrew couldn't properly see what he was doing because his thigh was in the way, but he didn't move his right leg. He wanted Andrew to come closer, to watch. To touch and fuck. He thrust his two fingers in and out, from the very tips of his fingers to the last knuckle. He spread his fingers wide when they were inside him and drew them out slowly, keeping them spread as wide as he could.

"Sir," Neil begged, making his voice high and breathy. "I want you to touch me." He bit back the urge to say 'please,' still an automatic addition to his begging and pleading repertoire even after being with Andrew for so long. "Your touch is better than mine. You get all the best spots." He moaned quietly, arching his back and sliding his fingers in deep once more. 

"Use the toy," Andrew said, voice quiet but demanding. 

Neil grinned. "Yes, sir." He fumbled for it where he'd left it on the cushions and finally got his fingers around it. He took a moment to smear some lube over it, and then he pushed it between his thighs and right up against his hole. "I wish you would do this for me," Neil said, pouting again. "I like it when you decide how I have to take it." He began to push the massager into himself slowly. "Slow and steady," Neil gasped out as it fit just inside him and rubbed up against his prostate. He pulled it back out just as slow, moaning as the bulbous end stretched him wide and held. "Or." He pressed it back in, hard and fast and deep. "Rough and quick." He gave Andrew a sideways smile.

"Turn it on," Andrew said. Neil noticed the pen clutched in one hand. He wasn't fiddling with it anymore. He obeyed Andrew's order and flicked the massager on at its lowest setting. 

He moaned and spread his legs wider, his cock bumping his stomach lightly, smearing precome across the inside of his dress. "Ah, Sir, it feels wonderful. Won't you come over here and make it better?" He nudged it up a little until it was mashed right against his prostate, and he whined, high and reedy. "I want more, Sir." 

"Turn it up," Andrew said, voice flat like he didn't care at all. Neil knew better than to believe that. He quickly twisted the vibrations to their highest setting and let out a moan that was nearly a scream. He spared a thought for the stewardesses, then found he didn't care if they walked out and saw him. He pushed it in deep and held it steady, his thighs already shaking. "Pull it out."

Neil whined, betrayed, but began to tug the toy out until it slipped free of his hole. "Sir, don't tease!" He poked out his lower lip in a pout. "I need it, Sir. If you won't give me your cock."

"Push it in. Hard and fast." Neil did exactly that, gasping at the sudden sensation. But Andrew dropped his pen into the seat beside him and began to unbuckle himself. "Again, you needy little slut. Fuck yourself with it." 

Neil gasped out, "Yes, Sir, your slut, Sir," and began thrusting the massager in and out - not quite all the way, but enough to make his hole stretch wide again before it went straight to his prostate. He moaned, high pitched and loud, and curved his hips upward to feel even more. His toes curled, and he struggled to keep his eyes on Andrew as he fucked himself with the toy. It wasn't large, but it did feel wonderful. 

When Andrew stood from his seat, Neil nearly cheered. He opened his mouth for a moan, instead. Andrew walked the few steps to the couch and grabbed Neil's thigh roughly, spreading his legs even further. Neil groaned at that, too. 

"Oh, Sir, I need you to touch me. I need it. I want your cock so badly." Neil whined at Andrew as Andrew just sat and watched while Neil continued to fuck himself. He waited until Neil had the toy deep inside himself once more before Andrew batted Neil's hand away and began thrusting the little massager in and out, faster and harder and with better precision to hit Neil's prostate on every thrust.

"It's not enough, Sir," Neil wailed. "I need your cock. It's so much bigger than this little toy. I want to be stretched open around you. I want to feel you and come from your cock."

Andrew pressed his hand over Neil's mouth, hard. "Blabbermouth," he accused, almost sulkily. With his other hand, he shoved the toy inside Neil and left it there as he opened his suit pants and pulled out his cock. He grabbed the lube and poured some over his cock, fisting himself a few times. He then reached between Neil's thighs and tugged the massager out of his hole. 

Neil tried talking through Andrew's hand, but his words were unintelligible. They turned into a scream as Andrew gripped Neil's right thigh and lifted it high in the air as he pushed his cock deep inside him. 

Neil was left it with both knees near Andrew's shoulders as Andrew practically folded him in half to fuck him slow and deep. Each thrust seemed like it felt hours as he slowly pulled out of Neil and pushed in even slower. Neil tilted his head back, but Andrew's hand followed. It was harder to breathe only through his nose, and he moaned again at the fuzzy feeling that encroached on his brain.

"Faster," he moaned under Andrew's palm. 

Andrew must have gotten the message, or else he wanted to do it himself anyway, for a second later, he thrust into Neil rapidly, his hips smacking Neil's thighs and ass with a slap. Neil arched his back and pressed into it.

After that, there was no more teasing. Andrew set a brutal, fast, hard pace that had Neil jerking all over the couch cushions. He grunted every other thrust with the effort. Neil did his best to breathe through Andrew's palm, but it was getting harder and harder with his twisted up position. He kept moaning and trying to meet Andrew's thrusts as he spoke under Andrew's palm, but it wasn't enough. He whined, high and long, and finally, Andrew moved his hand. Neil gasped for breath for a second, but then Andrew's hand was on Neil's cock, stroking rapidly. 

"Oh, god, Sir," Neil choked out. "I'm gonna come, Sir. Fuck. Let me come, sir. I need it." Neil babbled as Andrew continued to pound into him and nearly strip the skin from his dick at the same time. It was perfect. "Let me come! Can I? Sir?"

"Come," Andrew said, flat and grumbled. Neil shook around him and his ass tightened around Andrew's cock. He nearly screamed his pleasure as his orgasm crested and come splattered over the pretty pink dress. Andrew fucked into him for a few more thrusts before pushing in as deep as he could and coming inside Neil. He withdrew slowly, and when a glob of come and lube followed his cock as it slid out of Neil's ass, he scooped it up with two fingers and pressed them inside Neil once more. 

Andrew stood and went to the bag of toys and found the biggest plug Neil had brought. It was two and a half inches in diameter and four inches long with a small heart jewel on the end. He knelt between Neil's legs and lubed the plug before putting it against Neil's hole. 

"I want you to keep my come inside you until I am ready to fuck you again. You are not allowed to come again until I give you permission. For the rest of this flight, you will be my come dump. Understand, brat?" 

"Sir," Neil whined. "Don't. I don't wanna be a come dump." Andrew popped the inside of Neil's thigh, hard, leaving a small pink mark behind just under the bite mark bruise from a few days ago. "Okay, Sir." Neil went quiet and lay flat. "I'll be your good little come dump. Put it in me, Sir. I want to be good for you." Neil cheered internally. He'd succeeded in distracting Andrew. If it meant being gross with come and lube for the next several hours, he would take it willingly. 

Andrew slowly pushed the plug into Neil, watching as his hole stretched wide to accept it. Neil whined when Andrew stopped at the widest point and held it there. He whined even louder and begged, "Put it in me, Sir!" as Andrew tugged it out until only the tip was inside him. It was only a few inches, but it felt like miles to Neil. His thighs quivered as Andrew began pushing the plug inside him again, and he stopped at the widest point once more. Neil cried out, and Andrew tugged it out again. Neil forced tears to his eyes. 

"Put it in me, Sir. I need it. I can't keep your come in me if I don't have my plug. I wanna be so good, Sir." Neil babbled and twisted his hands in his dress, knowing better than to reach out and touch Andrew. 

He pushed the plug inside Neil all at once, and Neil squealed as it pressed against his prostate, oversensitive as he was already. Andrew smeared his hand over Neil's dress, and there was a hint of a smirk on his face. 

"Stay." He stood and went to the small bathroom in the back of the plane. Neil smiled brightly to himself. He'd helped Andrew relax and forget, at least for a moment, about the fact that they were on a plane very, very high in the air. 

When Andrew returned, his hands smelled like the terrible soap in the bathroom. He gently lifted Neil up a little, then slid onto the couch and lowered Neil's head and shoulders on his lap. Neil smiled and turned his face to press it against Andrew's stomach. Andrew began combing his fingers through Neil's hair, and there they sat for a long while until Neil started squirming for another orgasm. 

The second time, Andrew turned Neil on his stomach and fucked Neil's mouth, one hand four fingers deep in Neil's ass as he did so. Neil came all over his dress again, and when Andrew was about to finish down Neil's throat, he yanked Neil's head back by a fist full of hair and came all over his face and neck instead. 

Neil babbled and cried and said how gross it was, but Andrew ignored him, putting the plug in his ass once more and demanding Neil kneel beside the couch. Andrew left again to clean himself up, and when he returned, he let Neil lean against his legs and suck on his fingers while he read something on his phone. 

The third time took the longest. Neil was on his knees with his chest laying on the couch while Andrew fucked him brutally from behind. He didn't come inside Neil that time, either, but rather all over Neil's ass and thighs. Neil was positively dripping with come. 

Andrew petted Neil's hair as he cried, but he didn't shush Neil. Instead, he told Neil how pretty he was, all covered in Andrew's come and marked so visibly as his own. Neil offered a tiny smile at that, and Andrew pressed a kiss to Neil's cheek. He made Neil sit like that, covered in come, for another ten minutes before they went into the bathroom together and Andrew cleaned Neil up as well as he could given their supplies. He took Neil's dress from him and brought him a pair of black leggings and a soft, large, baby blue sweater that fell to the tops of Neil's thighs. 

"I'm going to put the plug in you, and I want you to wear it until we get to our hotel," Andrew told him as he stroked Neil's hair. "Will you do that, my pretty come dump?" Neil nodded and sucked on his bottom lip. Andrew bent him over the small counter and nudged the plug back inside him, then pulled Neil's leggings up over his hips and his sweater down over his ass. 

They cleaned up the couch with more of the wipes they'd used to clean up Neil, and once they were done, Andrew sat on one end and Neil curled up on his side with his back to the rest of the plane, his head in Andrew's lap and his face pressed into his stomach. He drifted to sleep quickly, and he hoped Andrew could get some rest, as well. 

**Author's Note:**

> main author has left the fandom  
sorry about it  
can't promise new chapters  
no motivation, no desire to write more for this fandom, no reason to do so


End file.
